


Ravens and Roses

by Estelle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Flirting, Getting Together, Language of Flowers, M/M, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22509031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estelle/pseuds/Estelle
Summary: Dorian keeps finding roses left by a secret admirer. He also keeps seeing a certain elf around Skyhold. Those two things might be connected.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Ravens and Roses

**Author's Note:**

> SchaRoux made a wonderfor [14 Days of Dragon Age Lover’s Prompts list](https://scharoux.tumblr.com/post/190457532424/decided-to-have-some-fun-with-upcoming-valentines), so here's my contribution for Day 1: Roses, and with a rarepair at that.
> 
> (And yes, I know that ravens and crows aren't the same, but the alliteration was so good, and there's a scene of Zevran with ravens, so let me have this :P)

Dorian had seen the elf around Skyhold a few times now. He always visited only briefly, clad in black leather and a hood that sometimes let Dorian see flashes of golden hair and handsome features, if he was lucky. He had gathered that he was some sort of spy, an acquaintances of Leliana. He might have said friend, but he wasn’t sure if the spymaster had any these days.  
Dorian hadn’t found out his name yet, which he supposed made him a fairly good spy, he just saw him vanishing out of Josephine’s office, or delivering notes to Cullen’s desk, or feeding the ravens in Leliana’s tower, or something other of that sort, and he had to admit that he was intrigued. The man was a mystery that he was curious to learn more about.

Then one day, when he came back to the library after breakfast, he found a single blue rose lying on the book he had been reading. Curious, he picked it up, turning it about in his hand carefully, but of course there was no clue as to who had left it here.  
While blue roses symbolised mystery and intrigue, they also generally meant having a secret admirer. But who would do such a thing? Dorian knew that his reputation at Skyhold had gotten a lot better, people didn’t curse his name on sight anymore, no, he would even go so far as to say that he had made friends, but a secret admirer? He had no idea who that could be, which made this all the more interesting.  
Smiling, he placed the rose in a little glass on his windowsill, determined to get behind this mystery.

The next day, he had of course not made any progress yet, when suddenly he noticed a coral rose now sitting next to his blue one.  
Blinking, he took a step closer. His admirer certainly knew their flowers, because while it could easily be mistaken for orange, this was without a doubt indeed coral, meant to symbolise desire. This was getting more intriguing by the second, and try as he might, he could not come up with anyone in Skyhold who might be interested in him, and at the same time this secretive.  
He didn’t know who to ask about this either, and if he was honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to just yet, rather keeping the mystery for himself a little longer.

The next rose was orange, and Dorian had _almost_ expected that, not that he had dared to hope for it. While very similar in hue to coral, orange was much brighter, and therefore symbolised a deeper passion, making very clear what his mystery admirer thought of him, and what they were hoping they would get up to once they revealed themselves.  
Grinning, Dorian placed the rose with the other two, already looking forward to the next, and wondering how long this would go on.  
It was that evening that he also saw the mysterious elf again. Of course he hadn’t forgotten about him, but with his excitement over the roses, he had to admit that _that_ mystery had been pushed to the back of his mind a little bit.   
But tonight, he had climbed up the stairs to visit Leliana, and had found the spy sitting on her table, stroking one of the ravens. He wasn’t the least bit startled by Dorian’s appearance, which meant that he had heard him coming, and decided to stay.  
Dorian smiled at that, and thought that the stranger might be smiling back, but it was hard to tell with his hood still up.  
“Good evening!”, he greeted. “I was looking for Leliana?”  
“Ah yes!” The elf hopped down from the table. “It seems like she is delayed, and unfortunately, I cannot wait any longer, as nice as the company might be.”  
He had a musical accent that Dorian thought to recognise as Antivan, and he grinned at the flirting.  
“That is unfortunate indeed. I was rather hoping to properly get to know you”, he replied, letting his gaze rake over the other man in an entirely unsubtle manner. He knew he was being bold, but he was never one to hold back with flirting, and besides, the elf had started it.  
He did get a delighted laugh for his effort, and the man stepped closer.   
“I would like that a lot, mi caro, but I really do need to leave. Would you mind giving this to Leliana?”  
He placed a letter in Dorian’s hand, his fingers brushing his wrist deliberately, then he was gone, and Dorian just stood there for a moment, smiling to himself.

A light pink rose was added to his collection the next day. While the last one had been really bold, this one was softer, meaning grace, appreciation and admiration, and Dorian found an unexpected warmth growing in his chest.   
While he would never admit to it, and his life so far had made him wary of secret motives and hidden games, he was still a romantic at heart, and found himself getting attached to this person without even knowing them, and secretly hoping that maybe, it would be the elf. He had to shake his head at that thought. He was never one to be that lucky, and if he was being realistic, the chance of that happening was just too small. That didn’t stop him from looking forward to the next rose and his next encounter with the spy equally, though.

But the next day, there was no rose. Not when he got back from breakfast, not after his chess game with Cullen, and still not late in the evening when he realised that he couldn’t concentrate on his book because he kept thinking about the roses. Frowning, he looked about his little nook in the library, but no, he hadn’t missed it. There was no new rose.  
Rationally, he knew that the person responsible was probably just busy, maybe they had even been called on a mission away from Skyhold, but he was still more upset about it that he cared to admit. After only four days, he had gotten used to the roses, and not getting a new one now wasn’t a pleasant feeling.  
Sighing, he decided that he wouldn’t get any work done like this anyway, and headed to the tavern to get his mind off things by getting a drink with the Iron Bull. And if he hoped to find a rose when he got back, that was nobody’s business but his own.

A week passed, and still there was no rose. Dorian’s feelings wavered between anger and worry, not knowing what had happened, who and where his admirer was, and if they would come back.  
Another week later, resignation won out. It seemed like his admirer wouldn’t come back, and he didn’t know if they’d lost interest, or if it hadn’t been real in the first place, just a cruel joke to get his hopes up.  
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to throw out the roses, all but withered now, and kept them on his windowsill, the sight now bittersweet.  
He was really glad he did, when the next day, he woke up to a yellow one lying next to them.  
While yellow most commonly symbolised friendship, it could also mean an apology, and Dorian smiled. Clearly, his admirer felt bad about leaving him second-guessing for so long, and Dorian was surprised at himself at how easily he was willing to forgive the silence of the last weeks, if it meant finally getting roses again.  
That night, he also saw the elf again, quite literally crashing into him.  
He was on his way to dinner, when someone ran into him, and he steadied him with placing his hands on his hips, letting out a startled “Woah!”  
Then he got a good look at just who had fallen into his arms. The hood had come loose on the impact, revealing the golden hair that he had gotten glimpses of before, and a tattoo accentuating his handsome face.  
Grinning, he stated: “You already had my attention, there’s no need to throw yourself at me quite so literally.”  
“Good to know.” The elf laughed, and Dorian noticed that neither of them had made a move to pull away, him still gripping his hips, and the man’s hands on his chest.  
“Actually, I had been hoping to find you. You _are_ Dorian, right?”, he continued then, and Dorian raised an eyebrow.  
“I am”, he confirmed. “Though you have me at a disadvantage here, since you seem to know my name, but I do not know yours.”  
“Ah yes. But of course. It is Zevran.”  
“Zevran”, he tested out, liking the feel of the foreign name in his mouth. “And just what can I do for you, Zevran?”  
At that, Zevran grinned wickedly, sending a wave of heat through Dorian’s body. “Well, I am hoping for a great many things. But right now, I actually need your magical expertise. Leliana said you might be able to help.”  
Dorian nodded. “Of course. I was about to get dinner, but maybe we can just take something back from the kitchen and discuss over that?”  
Zevran smiled. “I would like that.”  
So they did just that, sharing and food and pouring over a book on magical theory together, flirting and not-so-accidentally touching, and Dorian found himself impressed by Zevran’s intelligence and quick wit, a perfect match for his own.  
They came close to kissing at least three times, but never actually following through, and Dorian liked the anticipation it built, and the way the air felt almost electrically charged between them.  
When Zevran left sometime in the early hours of the morning, Dorian wasn’t even disappointed that nothing had happened, instead already hoping for their next encounter.

When he got back from breakfast, he found a purple rose on his armchair, and grinned excitedly. The colour was his favourite, though he was almost certain his admirer wouldn’t know that, and most prominently stood for pride and enchantment, so clearly very fitting for him. Then he remembered that it also meant love at first sight, and his grin softened into a small smile, the warm feeling in his chest once again growing, now hoping more than ever that the roses were gifts from Zevran.

The next one surprised him the most. Burgundy meant “as of yet unrequited love”, and he had to marvel at the boldness of the statement. His admirer seemed certain that he would return his feelings, and if he was honest, Dorian had to admit that he had chosen a great way to try and win him over.  
He was still admiring the rose, turning it about in his hand, when he heard someone step up behind him.  
“So you like them?”  
At that voice, that accent he would recognise anywhere now, he turned around.  
“Zevran?” He hadn’t expected to see him again this quickly.  
Zevran bowed slightly, grinning. “At your service.”  
Dorian was about to give a flirtatious reply to that, when what Zevran had said first registered.  
“Wait, the roses are from you?”  
Now, Zevran actually looked nervous. “Yes. Are you disappointed?”  
“Disappointed? I’m _delighted_. Although...” He stepped closer slowly. “I think you made a mistake with this last one.”  
“Oh?” Zevran raised his eyebrows, still waiting, and Dorian smiled.  
“It’s certainly not unrequited.”  
At that, Zevran’s face broke out into a grin, before pulling him into a kiss that was long overdue.  
Dorian immediately reciprocated enthusiastically, pressing closer to Zevran and effectively pinning him against a bookshelf.  
They just kissed for a moment, revelling in the feeling of finally having this, but when Zevran started to trail his lips down his neck, Dorian pulled back a little.  
“Wait!”  
Zevran raised an eyebrow. “Too much?”  
“Certainly not. I was just thinking that maybe we should take this somewhere more private”, Dorian explained, and Zevran smirked.  
“Not one for adventure then?”  
Dorian grinned. “I wouldn’t say that. I just don’t want to grant the whole library the privilege of seeing my bare arse.”  
Startled, Zevran laughed. “You make a compelling point. Lead the way then.”

When he woke up later, it was because of Zevran shifting in his arms, and he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart at that. Of course he didn’t stay. Why did he even think he would? Because Zevran had put more effort into seducing him than anyone before? Because he had gotten him _flowers_? Ridiculous.  
“Leaving so soon?”, he quipped, trying very hard to sound nonchalant and keep the disappointment out of his voice.  
Zevran turned around and quickly kissed him. “Alas, duty calls. I shouldn’t even still be here.”  
“Of course.” What a marvellous excuse.  
“However...” And now, for the first time since Dorian had known him, Zevran looked unsure. “I would very much like to return to you. If I may.”  
Dorian smiled, and allowed himself a tiny bit of hope at that. “You may.”  
Reassured, Zevran leaned in to kiss him again, longer this time, and Dorian stroked a hand down his back.  
“And I can’t convince you to stay?”  
Sighing, Zevran pulled back, clearly reluctant. “I would like nothing more, amore, but this mission cannot be postponed.”  
He got up from the bed to find his clothes, and Dorian shamelessly watched him, letting his gaze wander over the tattoos accentuating the muscles of his back and the curve of his butt, and the marks he had left there.  
Zevran grinned over his shoulder. “I would ask if you like what you see, but I think you demonstrated that quite thoroughly.”  
“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind hearing it nonetheless”, Dorian replied, and Zevran laughed.  
“You might have a point there.”  
Having found all his belongings, he came back to the bed, and kissed Dorian again, a goodbye and a promise all at once.  
Dorian allowed himself the luxury of going back to sleep then, and when woke up later to find a bright red rose on his nightstand, he finally let himself start believing in the romance he had always secretly been dreaming of.


End file.
